Snobs.
Back in my room I just did my homework and tuned the world out until my mom called.
“How are you doing?”
“I’m good, how are you?” I replied.
“We’re doing fine! We went by Grandma and Grandpa the other night for dinner. You know they’re into yoga now! They’re taking classes at the Park District and are really enjoying it!”
“That’s great,” I said closing my math book on my desk. “What about you and Taylor and Jordan?”
“The usual, Taylor joined the academic bowl and Jordan is still doing swimming. We still have to find a weekend where we can visit but we’ve all been busy over here.”
“I know, me too.”
“How’s it going with classes and that club you’re in?”
“Classes are good, not too hard. This group focuses on spirituality without any forced religion. It is so nice, Mom! These people actually care about cleansing your soul. It’s really special. Trust me. It actually is making me get better.”
I glanced over at Deanna at her computer. Her headphones were on and she was not even listening to me.
“What do you do there?” My mom asked.
“We do a lot of things and every day it feels like a better day. We hold group meditations and affirmations, and just do positive things in general to spread a good message. It is good discipline for the soul, too, like the other day we had a day where we took a vow of silence.”
“That is so good, I’m glad you found something you enjoy that makes you happy. So do they talk to you?”
“Well, yeah.”
“I mean is there a teacher?”
“Yeah.”
“Do they have counseling sessions?”
“Well…not exactly.”
At this point I walked out and wandered to the lounge, which was empty. I shut the door to the hallway.
“Sky, did you even go to the campus counseling yet?”
“No,” I hesitated saying.
I heard my mom sigh and I could just see her face now: The disappointed eyes closing.
“You need that.”
“I don’t really need it anymore!”
“Honey, I’m proud of you that you found this group and it will help you, but you still need to see a counselor. It will be good for you to continue to talk to someone. We still go.”
“I know, Mom. I will. This is pretty therapeutic on its own. I guess I’ll talk about it when I’m ready. I’m not sure when that will be, but honestly, I feel pretty good right now.”
“Good.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay well I better let you go, just wanted to catch up!”
“Sounds good, send me an email or something.”
“I will, honey. Love you!”
“Love you too!”
I went back to my room, and was startled to see Kristen come out of it, she didn’t see me as she left.
“What did Kristen want?” I asked Deanna.
“Nothing much,” Deanna replied playing with her hair.
“Look,” I sat down in my chair next to the couch. “I’m not stupid. She and those other girls are acting weird around me. Are they talking about me?”
Deanna cringes. “Actually, yeah. They are.”
“Why?” I demanded
“I’m so sorry Sky. I… I didn’t want to be the one to hurt your feelings. Basically…they think you’re weird.”
“I’m weird?”
“Yeah, just with that group you’re in.”
“Guardians of Light? Why? What’s so weird about it? We don’t do anything except spread a positive message! What, is that too cheesy for some people?”
“Sky, I don’t know, I’m sorry, but it just creeps everyone out.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Everyone?”
Deanna got very quiet.
“Everyone on this floor…like...thinks you’re a Satanist.”
“That’s RIDICULOUS!”
“I know it is, but I just thought you should know. You do all these rituals and stuff. But people feel that way about stuff that is different.”
I sighed, exasperated and Deanna stared at the floor.
“Don’t think anything of it,” she said.
“Well, kind of hard to when people hate me for no real reason.”
“It’s really stupid, I wouldn’t even worry about it. They say stupid things like you worship the devil and you do creepy ceremonies with witchcraft and stuff.”
“Oh my GOD!”
“I know!” Deanna said. She looked at me funny.
“You don’t believe in that stuff, do you?”
“Of course not.”
“Good, see? I told you it was crazy. Don’t let them bother you!”
I just shook my head, too annoyed and too confused to say anything else.
That night, once Deanna was asleep, I stretched out on my bed over the covers and started whispering. I did not want her to hear me, but I wanted others to.
“Guide me, spirits. Give me a sign. Give me a sign that you are here.”
My fingertips shook a little at my sides, but they stayed there. I repeated the phrase.
“Lift me…come on…lift me…”
I shivered out of my blankets but that was all the movement I had. Nothing happened and I sighed, getting back in and rolling on my side. I heard Deanna roll on her side too, and she might have lifted her head to hear if I was talking.
***
It was a Friday, and the only thing I could think about was the Burning of the Burdens activity at The Manor. I was looking forward to it, but the same time I was really nervous. We were to have a ceremony where we’d write down the things that upset and bothered us, share them openly, and then put them in a fire.
I realized my moment had come and it was making me crazy to have to share something so personal with people I still did not know very well. I guess the time had to come eventually. It was time for us to bond. It was another step towards my personal healing and it might have been the step I was waiting for.
Damien and I walked over there right away, a little before six. As we headed on, I couldn’t help but notice Damien was in just as much of an anxious state as I was, if not a bit more. We were both pretty quiet on our way to The Manor. The only thing we could hear was the rustling of the leaves as, one by one, they detached themselves and floated to the ground in piles. It could have been the burden that Damien still carried, the one he was to purge tonight along with the others. I was going to find out sooner or later. The entrance to The Manor was lit up, as it usually was, the lanterns all in a line of light in the evening dusk.
The evening started with a spaghetti dinner in our mess hall, which had to add another table to accommodate new members. The food, of course, was the best I’d ever eaten. I slurped those noodles and didn’t care when I got red sauce speckled on my chin. We for a fact had the best bread on campus. It was hot and fresh, like someone actually made it from scratch, but we never knew since we were never around when it was being made. We dipped it into our plates and scooped up the masses to devour in mouthfuls.
And then, I suddenly got very tired. I slumped in my seat and chugged the rest of my Pepsi at vain attempt for a caffeine boost. Next to me, Damien yawned and even loosened the belt around his pants. I didn’t need to look around to know that everyone else was just as satisfied as we were. It was like one big secret everyone was in on. We got the royal treatment at this place. The Manor was an island from the rest of the campus. We were the special ones. After all, if we were the only ones who knew what it took to better our lives, why shouldn’t we be given the royal treatment?
Mitchell stood up and cleared his throat.
“I think this lovely pasta dinner put us all in a nice, relaxing mood! Perfect for tonight’s activities. We’d like you all to start filing out and fill up the cushion seats by row in the lower lounge. And, as you walk, consider the ceremony started. No talking whatsoever, now is the time to gather your thou
ghts.”
We did so, exiting the mess hall area and I got the chills. It wasn’t the cold kind, but I did suddenly feel colder. True, I was slightly anxious about this unmasking event we were having. My body seemed to be feeling that pressure.
The basement door was already propped open by the angel statue that seemed to be staring into our minds and judging us as we passed. I avoided eye contact. A few people already in the lower lounge were seated in rows of horseshoes on the floor. At the front, at the fireplace, was a table with a single large candle burning a tiny bored flame. Someone played music somewhere. It was slow and instrumental, but loud, and it echoed in the walls as though the symphony were playing live on the upper level. It enchanted our legs to move in synch down the stairs and over to neighboring cushions on the floor. We folded our legs in unison and stared at the candle until the whole lounge was filled. My body began to feel heavy, and from the neck down, I didn’t move anything. When parts of your body fall asleep, most notably appendages, your veins get prickling sensations of blood re-flowing and waking your body back to life. That would be the case if I even thought to wiggle a toe or shuffle a leg, but I didn’t. As far as I was concerned, I was a stone paper weight, and the cushion below me flattened of any fluff.
Mitchell entered the scene, donning a large black cloak bearing our group’s logo. He opened his arms in address.
“Lights, we begin the Burning of the Burdens. But in order to do so, you must first confront your burdens. Bring them out into the open. Look under your seats for notebooks and pencils and begin your reflections.”
And my body reanimated enough to do so, getting that spiral notebook and a small pencil, which was the kind you find in board games and end up breaking. I wasn’t sure how much to write or how much detail to go into, so I just started pouring it out. Over the repetitive, instrumental solos of our current soundtrack were the scratches of those pencils, running together in a similar motion, some so quickly and passionately they sounded like hurried whispers. And soon enough I realized I was having a hard time seeing my paper. Somewhere down the line we little by little started to lose light in the room. The lone candle at the front of the lounge burned brighter as the only light source. Looking up at the ceiling I saw the top light bulbs off and out of use, but the chandelier itself seemed to sway a little, only a little. I saw the world around me go blacker. If none of the lights in the room were on, how could it be getting darker? Older members lit smaller candles and put them on the stairs of the lounge, and I could only see their faces against their cloaks, floating in midair.
I broke my paper from the notebook, my hands shaking, for as soon as the room got darker the chills came back as well. Soon, we were to go up in front of everyone and share our vulnerabilities. I started shaking so much I was sure my glasses were throbbing on my nose. The floating faces gathered near the front by the candle and Mitchell, who now held a glass container. He motioned to one of the members holding a cloth pouch at her side.
“Now is the time for us to confront our burdens. We confront them with strength and determination that they will not run our lives.”
The girl flung something into the fireplace, and a huge cloud of green exploded from the ashes and rumbled the walls. I jumped at the sparks that flew out, especially at the loud emerald and yellow flames that now took residence in the fireplace. Even the walls around it looked green.
“We cast them away in this fire, a symbol of our brightness and richness in character. And as we cast away our troubles, our weaknesses, we must remember to honor and protect our flames.”
Mitchell put the glass cover over the little candle, which never even flickered against the green monster.
“Let the Burning of the Burdens begin.”
The music filled our ears as we were left alone with our thoughts. The upperclassmen at the front were already in a line formation, the girl who started the green fire up first. She held up her paper and faced the crowd, staring at a spot at the back wall.
“My burden is that I struggle with independence. I grew up as an only child to a wealthy family, and as an only child my parents always spoiled me and I grew up getting everything I ever asked for. I worry that I won’t be able to take care of myself and money will be the only thing to raise me.”
She crumpled the paper and tossed it in the fire. The embers hissed, the flames immediately eating it up with yellow crinkly teeth.
And so, one by one we went, row by row, as each member said their thing. I noticed that many people’s burdens were common. Most worried about relationships, getting good grades and getting a good job, which made me become a little more worried about my own. A few had some more severity, such as a serious addiction and someone who got arrested for shoplifting. I would be going up there before Damien, so everyone would know my baggage before knowing his. I couldn’t figure out if his was as serious as stealing or doing drugs, but somehow I knew mine would stand out from anyone else’s.
I knew my legs fell asleep, but instead of feeling prickly they were in their stone marble state. I didn’t even know when my legs started to move until they did so for me, without my even knowing it as the person to my left came and sat back down.
Mitchell’s eyes turned to me. The fireplace was urging me to the front with the hastily written piece of paper I held. As I got closer to the front I could hear that green fire crackling in different extremes, like a witch’s laughter, waiting for me to feed it another snack.
I stood at the front and found myself staring at the same point on the back wall, knowing how difficult it was to make any eye contact with people you were sharing your deep, personal secrets with. I didn’t even want to look at Damien. I opened my mouth and thought if I gave them the basics it would be all over with and I could sit back down.
“Around April, I lost my dad. He was shot and killed by gang members in the street in downtown Chicago.”
Well, there was no way I could stop there. If I just ran back to sit down after that everyone’s stares would burn holes through my head.
“It was back when we lived in the city. He was walking home from the train station. It was a typical night; that was how he got home every night.”
I was talking faster because the angry, hateful chunks were starting to rise in my throat already.
“There were gang members out and fighting with each other. One of them was running away from someone else. He had a gun on him and ran through the streets and was looking for rival members and eventually found them. They fired at each other and one of them came around the corner and fired, and missed. They got my dad instead. Right in the throat.”
The tears were flowing faster and faster and my face started to scrunch up as I could no longer compose myself.
“He was doing nothing! He was minding his own business! He did nothing! But criminals decided that they were going to make their business other people’s business and my dad died because of it! He didn’t last long. Someone called 911 but it was too late. The best part? They didn’t even catch whoever did it, cause some gang members were found dead too, so no one could be punished.”
My sleeve was damp with each wipe, and by this time, I stopped staring at the wall and turned my face down to the candle, imploring it: Give me strength, give me strength.
“No matter what happens, there will always be criminals. I want to get past the hate I have, the hate I have for the law not taking control of violence in the streets. I want to be strong and know that he is always with me, my family, and for us to find peace and healing. This past couple of months I…I’ve been trying to forgive the world, but I just can’t. I want more strength to get through this.”
I already had the paper crumbled in a sweaty wad in my palm, but I tried to make it tighter. I turned and tossed it in the fire with great relief, even the tiniest explosion seeming much bigger. I stayed up there just to watch it burn and melt into nothing, just to be sure. I sniffed and composed myself, taking a deep breath. I didn’t walk back to my seat.
I almost floated—my head on a cloud and my eyes washed clean—to the back bathroom.
Chapter 10
My iPod was rolled up to a pretty high volume, but I still heard the knock on the door.
“Yeah, come on in.”
Damien opened the door and smiled at me.
“Hey,” we both said simultaneously.
“What are you up to?” he asked, sidestepping around a pair of my jeans on the floor—or they could have been Deanna’s.
“Nothing, really,” I answered shrugging.
I took my iPod off from around my neck and set it on my desk.
“Just hanging out, I guess. Glad you came by, though. I was bored.”
“Me too,” he said. “I felt like getting out for a while.”
“Your dorm pretty quiet too?”
“Yeah. They all usually are on weekends.”
“Hey, did you ever hear anything about getting in that track house?”
“No, actually. I don’t know anything about that yet.”
Damien came over and sat on the couch. I got up to go to the fridge on the other side.
“Want anything?”
“Sure.”
We opened up Dr. Peppers and took sips. It was quiet for a second while I closed out of my email window. I was definitely feeling Damien’s gravitational pull. I turned in my chair while taking another big gulp.
“So, how are you?” he said.
“I’m fine,” I answered. “I feel kind of bad, though. I didn’t stick around to hear your burden.”
“No, don’t worry about it,” he said immediately. “It’s okay. It’s nothing compared to yours. No one’s was, really. I would have excused myself too, after that. I mean, that was tough. No one blamed you.”
“I couldn’t help myself. I was such a wreck.”
“It’s okay, Sky. What you went through, I mean, I remembered, in school when that happened to you, but I didn’t really get to hear the details until then. And you weren’t even gone that long anyway.”
“I did feel like I was in the bathroom forever.”
At that point, I thought that I cried out all the tears in me. I was wrong. I put my pop can down as I started to sniff uncontrollably.
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